Those Three Colours
by kudosaii
Summary: Hey so this is like a preview(?) of the story i am planning to write (F.A.C.E.) You may or may not need to read this to understand the rest of the story, so i would recommend you read it, to get used to my writing style and stuff. (Don't like, don't read, please) xoxo HonoMegami (P.s the actual story isn't really a T but the rest of the story definitely will be due to language)
1. Chapter 1 - Preface

England wandered over to his lonely, brown armchair and fell into it, letting the seat catch him. A cloud of dust arose, spreading around the sad countries face; but he did not cough, or blink. He was too used to the horrible, acid-like smoke of a battlefield to be affected by dead skin and dirt. He tapped his fingers anxiously, though he wasn't waiting for anything. Then, he made the mistake of looking up and catching his eye on something; a painting. He had forgotten about it, and upon glancing, his eyes filled with tears. Salty water poured down his dirty face, cleaning it. He moaned and wailed, but then, he yelled. He screamed louder than he had in any battle, fight or war. The shriek was low and agonizing, but once it had finished, a deadly silence dropped over the room. The painting, old and tattered from age, was a beautiful mixture of three colours. Red, white and blue.

It wasn't a particular flag, nor was it just three stripes. The painting was a silhouette of four nations, a family. United, bound by these colours. England yelled because one was dead. And he will never forgive, and never forget.


	2. Chapter 2 - America's Morning

Alfred rolled around his bed, yawning and stretching like a cat.

'_Ugghhh!,' _He moaned, from recalling the events that were to take place today (and partially from him stretching).

'_Great, a "family" outing' _He thought to himself. '_I can barely put up with them on their own.'_ He then half rolled, half hoisted himself out of bed and walked to the staircase. Obviously, it's America, so he couldn't help but jump onto the banister and slide down it. It might have been the bad mood, or the tiredness, but he got half way down and stumbled, causing him to flip and land on his thick skull. He was then moaning on the stairs, trying to keep conscious. The nation then scrambled slowly on the floor then managed to find his feet, he was so close to tears. He walked the rest of the way downstairs, resisting the urge to jump back on the railing, and found his way to the kitchen. He looked around the lonely little room, then wandered over to his small "vintage red" radio and turned it on (in truth, it was just a really old radio). He stood, hunched over the little, crimson box, twisting the knob back and forth trying to find a station. He twisted it whilst thinking about, well, things like: hamburgers, fries, mcdonald's, turtles, etc. and eventually he found a station. It then blasted out:

"THIS IS ROCK RADIO, YOUR HOME OF EVERYTHING OLD, NEW AND AWESOME," he smiled, because it just happened that the perfect station came on. But, his mood was then dampened by his favorite band.

'Na Na Na' by My Chemical Romance screamed out of the radio, making America reluctantly turn the volume down. A single tear dropped down his face and splashed on the counter, the thought of his favourite band, somehow made him remember almost everything bad that's ever happened to him. He was confused as to why it had brought back the memories, the nightmares, the _history._ It could've been because of the fact the band had split up, or the head injury. But once he was done thinking, the song came to a stop. Silence fell down once again, for a moment that seemed to last forever. But it was broken by a harsh, loud voice coming from the speaker.

"THAT WAS A CLASSIC MCR SONG, BUT KNOW WE'RE GONNA TAKE A BREAK. THIS IS DJ JOHNNY MAN FOR ROCK RADIO AT 11:52!" America's eyes widened. Why he didn't look at the clock in the morning was oblivious to him. He sprinted out, slipping on his wooden floor multiple times. '_Shit!' _He thought to himself. '_Shit shit shit shit shit!' _This was because he had about three minutes to get ready. He jumped up the stairs, missing out half the steps, and flung himself through the door. Alfred then jumped onto his bed and threw his pillow behind him, because he keeps his clothes under it. Then, while getting changed, he pressed his stuffed teddy bears stomach, and it sang 'The Star Spangled Banner' in a cute, but out of tune voice. He threw on his 'fighter pilot-like' clothes and almost left the room, but he suddenly stopped and stroked his face with his hand. '_Glasses,' _He thought. He proceeded to leap over the bed and grab his texan-styled specs and jam them on his face. Then, he jumped down the stairs and ran out the door slamming it shut. But his heart sank and his face turned pale; he left his keys inside.

Hope You Guys Enjoyed . please say if you want more or anything ^.^

XXxx Kudo


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